


make your luck with the life you choose

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, Misunderstandings, Pining, and also a lot of people not knowing how to deal with their feelings, ft. patrick marleau wearing an apron and a lot of cute kid shenanigans, have fun!!!, they're all disasters so you can jot that down
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-30
Updated: 2017-12-30
Packaged: 2019-02-24 06:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13208409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: There’s a small chance that Patty and his wife maybe think that Mitch and Auston are possibly dating. It’s unclear who’s to blame for that, but Mitch doesn’t have time to dwell on it, because he's too busy dealing with the fallout.(Or: Mitch and Auston have dinner with the Marleaus.)





	make your luck with the life you choose

**Author's Note:**

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is made up, 100%.
> 
> thanks to the village of people who read this before I posted it: ang, julia, ali, silverandblue, ftc, ciara, tots. as soon as i saw [this picture](https://twitter.com/c_marleau/status/943249647090282496) my mind immediately went "okay how can this be turned into a fake dating au" and this is what i came up with. also, at the time this story was started, mitch had just broken his goal "drought," and we hadn't yet learned that auston's injury was a concussion, so i sort of just assumed he was dealing with like. the tail end of a hand injury, or something, and during the events of this story, he's pretty much recovered/not in any sort of pain. also the title is from "big time rush" OKAY

In an ideal world, Mitch would have no idea how he ended up in his current situation, but, unfortunately, Mitch isn’t living in his ideal world. For one, he’s putting up points, but not goals, and he’s not sure how worried he needs to be about that, but his brain is erring on the side of very, which means he’s trying not to think about it. Plus, his best friend is out with an injury, which fucking sucks, and also, he’s in love with his best friend, and that’s a whole thing, too. 

Like, arguably, that’s  _ the  _ whole thing, because now he’s pretty sure he’s going to have to explain to his teammate’s entire awesome, perfect family that he’s not dating said best friend, and that they’re just really good bros. 

Mitch doesn’t think Auston’s caught on yet. All he knows is that Patty and his wife invited just the two of them over for dinner with the family, no big deal, except it’s a little strange, probably, because they’re the  _ only _ ones invited, and, like – okay, maybe it genuinely  _ is  _ because the three of them have the whole father-and-sons thing going on these days, but Mitch thinks that it sounds a little too much like a double date-type thing for him to not be suspicious. 

And maybe that’s just because he’s in love with Auston, but. 

“Hey, about dinner,” Auston asks Patty, and Mitch is filled with an undirected but very real sense of dread as he drafts a message to the group chat about finding a fourth for Euchre. 

“Yeah?” Patty asks.

“Should we, like–” Auston pauses, and Mitch looks up to find that Auston’s trying to do that thing where they wordlessly check in via eye contact. Mitch doesn’t really know what Auston’s about to ask, but he doesn’t have a good feeling about it, so he probably just looks like a deer caught in headlights. Great. “Uh, should we bring anything?” he finishes, turning back to look at Patty, his cheeks a little red. 

Patty looks between the two of them, and that’s when Mitch realizes that maybe the Marleaus hadn’t been quite sure either, until just now, when Auston had nudged the needle towards this being a Couples Thing™ and not just a generous family inviting two nice young bachelors over for dinner. 

“No, you guys are fine,” Patty says, kind of slow. “A bottle of wine is always appreciated, if you really want to bring something.” 

Auston nods, and he looks a little confused, but he clearly doesn’t understand the fate he just sealed for them, which is, inevitably, very awkward, and will probably result in Mitch silently screaming in the bathroom at some point. 

“Alright,” Auston says, then turns to Mitch and offers him a shrug like,  _ wanna bring a bottle of wine?  _ and, like. Mitch can see the disaster unfolding before his very eyes, but he’s pretty powerless to do anything to stop it, because of manners, and feelings, and not wanting to awkwardly blurt out something that will reveal that he thinks about dating Auston more often than Auston thinks about dating him. 

So, he just nods, presses send on a text, and prays that someone shows up soon to break the weird, ‘so you guys  _ are  _ a couple, huh,’ tension that Auston is oblivious to, but Mitch and Patty most certainly are not. 

* * *

It’s not like Mitch doesn’t  _ try _ to fix it, for the record, except–

“Hyms, you gotta help me,” Mitch says, bursting into the room, except Willy’s there too, which Mitch hadn’t been expecting. 

“Huh?” Zach says, looking up. He seems kind of flustered, and Mitch wonders what he’s just walked into, but he decides not to worry about it, because Zach loves it when he minds his own business, and he has his own shit to worry about. 

“Hey, Marns,” Willy says, and he’s straight-up breathless, his hair kind of out of place, and Mitch takes a second to look at the scene before him, the way Zach’s eyes have wandered back to Willy, and the way Willy’s hand is over his mouth. 

So, they’ve been making out, which is, like, a pretty big deal. 

Mitch quickly weighs his options. He can continue to interrupt whatever this moment is, pretend to be oblivious and jump onto the bed to complain about the Matts Thing, but he doesn’t wanna be rude, and anyway, they’re probably both too distracted to give good advice right now. He could just ask Zach to drop hints to Patty that he’s not dating Auston, no explanation whatsoever, but Zach likes to have the details on things – which, fair, it’s a weird request to begin with – and inevitably, Mitch would still end up having to act like things are totally normal as he went on about the single weirdest dilemma to ever spring forth from Auston’s obliviousness combined with good ole Canadian politeness. 

“Actually, this can wait,” Mitch says, giving them a pointed look like,  _ we’ll talk later,  _ but also like,  _ this is a big deal and I probably won’t give you shit for it because I do actually care about you I swear.  _

“Alright,” Zach says. “Talk to you later.” 

If Zach is trying to politely shoo Mitch, then this is definitely a big deal, and Mitch reacts accordingly by turning on his heels and walking right out of there. 

* * *

So Mitch doesn’t get a second alone with anyone helpful who he can talk to in person, and maybe it’s excessively paranoid that he doesn’t want to text anyone because he doesn’t want any record of it, but he wants to handle this whole thing in the most lowkey way possible, and also kind of pretend that there’s no situation at all.

He sits next to Auston on the plane, because that’s what he usually does, and when they get off, Mitch thinks about asking Brownie if he wants to come over and play CoD so he can pretend to casually drop, “Yo, I need someone to tell Patty that Matts and I are strictly platonic,” in the middle of a conversation, but before he gets the chance, Auston’s asking him if he wants to get dinner, and Mitch doesn’t have a good reason to say no, especially since he knows Auston’s been feeling pretty restless in the press box, and has been a little more clingy than usual lately because of it. Not that Mitch minds; more time with Auston is always better, but it does mean that Mitch won’t have a chance to tell anyone to drop hints to Patty until the day of said dinner, and resignment starts to settle in Mitch. 

He hopes it’ll be fine; worst case scenario, they get mocked for the rest of their lives, and Mitch might have to request a trade, but best case is that they get there, set the record straight, and Patty’s going to be the one dealing with the bulk of the awkwardness. 

* * *

Mitch does something right when Auston texts him to ask what he’s gonna be wearing, and Mitch says a t-shirt and jeans, because that’s not a double date/dinner party outfit, that’s the outfit of a dude and his bro going over to their mentor-parent-friend’s family’s house for dinner.

He tries not to pay attention to the fact that Auston’s wearing a sweater – a dumb hipster thing, but still slightly more formal than standard bro-wear – and un-ripped jeans, for once, which is nothing short of a miracle. 

“Is this your formal wear?” Mitch says, before he can stop himself. “Are your knees suffocating? I can’t see them, like, at all.”

“Shut up,” Auston says, but he’s smiling, and kind of blushing, and Mitch’s heart is a fucking traitor that is beating way too fast. “That shirt looks nice on you,” he adds, and he sounds genuine, like he’s not trying to chirp Mitch, but Mitch assumes that’s just him being his usual, not-very-expressive self, or maybe just a fluke. It’s a plain black t-shirt, there’s not much to actually compliment in that.

“Thanks,” Mitch says, sarcastic. “Why’re you here early?” 

“Figured we’d pick up a bottle of wine?” Auston asks. “If that’s okay?” 

Mitch kind of blinks at him. “I don’t know anything about wine.” 

“Neither do I,” Auston says, shrugging. “Figured if we put our heads together, we’d come up with something nice?” 

“Zero plus zero is still zero,” Mitch points out, but Auston’s here, so he starts to grab his coat, because it’s not like he’s going to say no.

The actual wine purchasing is… fine. Auston tries to google lists of the nicest bottles for a reasonable price, because he’ll do anything to avoid human interaction, but Mitch isn’t the shy one in this friendship, so he goes up to someone who works there and asks for their recommendation. 

It takes them five minutes to pick out a bottle, but they still have time to kill before dinner, so they end up browsing random liquor. 

“Why are they selling this much rosé in December? I thought it was a summer wine,” Mitch says, going over to a prominent pink display. 

“Guess some people like pink wine year-round,” Auston says, walking up next to Mitch, and Mitch Does Not think about the fact that they’re standing so close that their fingers are almost touching. 

He picks up a bottle that has a bunch of fake flowers attached to it. “Are these, like, part of it? Or a display thing?” 

Auston shrugs, and takes it from him to examine it. “I dunno. It’d be cool if it did, though. Like, it’d be a nice gift, wine and flowers in one.” He points the bottle at Mitch, and it takes Mitch a second to realize that he’s pretending to offer it. Mitch rolls his eyes, doesn’t really bother hiding his smile as he takes it. 

“But does it taste good,” Mitch says. 

“Does any wine taste good?” Auston says. 

“Like, yes,” Mitch says. “There’s plenty of good wine out there.” 

“I dunno, I feel like rosé is more about the aesthetic,” Auston says. 

“Of course you do,” Mitch says, putting the bottle down. 

Auston just shrugs again, then pulls out his phone, and Mitch thinks he’s just gonna take a picture of the display, but he flips the camera and turns around so that the mountain of pink is in the background of his selfie. He does it as a Boomerang, and Mitch raises his eyebrows as the camera is pointed at him, mostly on instinct, before he realized that Auston’s about to put that on his finsta story. 

“Don’t post that,” Mitch says, because – like, no one would think much of it, just that they’re in a liquor store next to some incredibly pink and not-quite-seasonal wines that are pretty enough to commemorate, but still, the fact that they’re picking out a bottle of wine to bring to dinner together probably shouldn’t go on social media. Just, for Mitch’s sanity, maybe.

“What’s wrong with it?” Auston asks, and he looks kind of hurt. 

“C’mon, man,” Mitch says awkwardly, trying to play it off, but Auston’s frown deepens. 

“Alright,” Auston says, deleting the video, and he’s not standing quite as close to Mitch anymore, which is – like, in some ways preferable, but Mitch doesn’t like the fact that it’s happening because Auston’s upset. 

“If you’re gonna take a boomerang with pink wine, you gotta own it,” Mitch finds himself saying. “You can’t look grumpy.” 

“I didn’t look grumpy,” Auston says, but the corners of his mouth are turned up. 

“You were making your weird hipster face,” Mitch says. “C’mon, bruh, gotta cheese it up.” He flashes a smile, big and exaggerated, and Auston snorts.

“I look weird when I smile for photos,” Auston says. 

Mitch bites back many, many words he has to say about how nice Auston’s smile looks in photos. “You like plenty of photos where you’re smiling.” 

“Ones where I’m laughing, maybe,” Auston says. 

“Alright, then laugh,” Mitch says. 

Auston holds up the camera, angles it toward Mitch. “Okay, say something funny.” 

“I can’t be funny on command,” Mitch says, but as Auston presses the button, he makes some dumb face, kind of sticks out his tongue, which does get a genuine laugh out of Auston. The boomerang doesn’t get most of it, but it does have the moment when Auston’s face starts to break, which is nothing compared to the wide, fond, grin he’s got on right now, but it’s still pretty nice. 

“Is this better?” Auston says, still smiling, and it takes Mitch a second to realize that Auston’s holding the phone screen toward him. It is pretty nice, even though Mitch’s face looks dumb, but, like, cute-dumb. 

“Much better,” Mitch says, nodding approvingly. “Don’t ruin it with a filter, though.” 

“Let me live my life,” Auston says, but he doesn’t, just adds the caption,  _ guy’s tryna make me laugh.  _

Something in Mitch’s throat catches when he sees that. It’s ambiguous, but definitely pushing the edge of bros-territory. He could probably find some objection to it, if he really tried, but – it’s kind of nice, and the more he watches it repeat, the more he likes it. 

However Mitch feels about the caption apparently doesn’t matter, because Auston doesn’t ask him about it, just goes ahead and adds it to his story,

“Cool,” Auston says, and Mitch hates how easy his voice sounds, because Mitch’s stomach is doing something kinda weird, right now. “Let’s pay for this?”

“Sure,” Mitch says, and he wills himself to feel normal, because this is the easy part, just hanging out with Auston, not having to send clear ‘we’re not dating’ signals while avoiding cluing Auston in to the fact that there were ‘we’re dating’ signals in the first place.

* * *

The thing is, Mitch has openly referred to, like, half of his teammates as kind of fatherly in some capacity, but Patty’s the first actual old guy on the team.

Not that he’s, like,  _ that  _ old, but. He’s 38, and he’s been one of the older guys in the league for a while. For the most part, last year’s vets were so fatherly just because there were so many rookies, and they were excited to finally no longer be the young guys, but Patty’s, like, a legit adult, with a wife, and four children. He’s unironically chirped Mitch and Matts for using their phones too much, had taught them card games, and honest-to-god hadn’t known what ‘HBU’ meant. Mitch had thought he was joking with that one, but, nope, he just had never encountered that one, and hadn’t even thought to look it up on Urban Dictionary or something. Mitch’s actual parents are more adept than Patty, when it comes to technology. 

“Hey boys,” Patty says when he greets them. Mitch notes that he’s wearing a sweater, too, which is further evidence that disastrous levels of awkwardness are on the horizon, and it will be up to Mitch to defuse them. 

“Hi,” Mitch says, and goes for a hug. “Thank you for having us.” 

Patty turns to Auston, who’s holding the wine and looks like he doesn’t know whether to put it down or just cave and go for the handshake, so Mitch comes through with the assist and takes it out of his hands, and Auston looks way too relieved. 

“Thank you for – yeah,” Auston says. “We, uh, brought wine.” 

“I see that,” Patty says, then takes it from Mitch, removes it from the bag, and looks at the label, nodding. “You didn’t have to, but thank you.” 

“No problem,” Auston says, and he sounds even more awkward than usual. Matts is, like, shy, but he’s not uncomfortable around people he knows, and he’s pretty tight with Patty. Mitch wonders if the sweaters are throwing him off. 

Before Mitch can say anything, though, Jagger comes racing toward the door, barreling past everyone to get to Mitch. And, like, Mitch should maybe be above being proud of the fact that a 6-year-old thinks he’s the coolest person in the world, but he definitely isn’t. In his defense, this 6-year-old has met legitimate NHL legends, and it’s nice to know that there’s someone in the world who’s more excited to see him than he is to see, like, Joe Thornton. 

“My man,” Mitch says, crouching down to give Jagger a high five. 

“Hi Mitch!” Jagger says, excited, and he does that thing where he leans back to gain momentum before he smacks Mitch’s outstretched hand.

“Ouch,” Mitch says, pretending to shake out his wrist. “You been workin’ out, bud?” 

“We’ve been playing lots of mini sticks,” Jagger says. 

“That explains it,” Mitch laughs, then stands up. 

“Jagger,” Patty says, in a tone of voice that can only be achieved by parents reminding their children to mind their manners, “say hello to  _ all _ of our guests.” 

“Hi Auston,” Jagger says, turning to wave at him. 

“Hey,” Auston says, smiling, clearly not offended. 

“No high-five for Matty?” Mitch says, encouraging, and Auston bends down and holds out a hand, which Jagger hits as hard as he can. Mitch remembers doing the exact same thing as a kid; he figures it’s a common phase. 

“Wow, that’s an impressive arm you’ve got there,” Auston says. “Ever considered baseball?” 

Jagger shakes his head, confused. 

“You need a good arm to play baseball,” Auston says, and that’s apparently all the explanation Jagger needs. 

“Oh!” he says, nodding enthusiastically, and then he turns and tugs on Patty’s hand. “Daddy, can I play baseball?” 

“Let me talk it over with your mother first,” Patty says, and Jagger nods and runs off. 

Mitch and Auston begin to take off their coats, and Patty starts making small talk, asking them how their day was, if there was any traffic on the drive over, but they’re interrupted by a woman’s voice coming down the hall. 

“Patrick, why is Jag asking me about baseball?” Christina says, turning the corner, but before she gets an answer, she sees Mitch  and Auston. “Oh, I didn’t realize you two were here! Sorry, I took over kitchen duty for a few minutes.” 

“It’s all good,” Mitch says, and gives her a hug too, as Auston follows suit. “Food’s the most important part of a dinner, right?” 

“The company’s important too,” she says, and then she turns to Patty. “Sweetie, one of your timers went off–” 

“Which one?” he says. 

“Just the oven timer,” she says, and that apparently means something to Patty, because he turns on his heels and walks very briskly to the kitchen. Christina redirects her focus to Mitch and Auston. “Well, I guess that was important.” 

“Clearly,” Mitch says. 

Christina laughs politely before leading them back to the kitchen, where Patty, now decked out in an apron and oven mitts, is holding a tray of roast vegetables, trying to kick the lower oven door shut. 

“I can–” Auston says, and Patty gives him a grateful look as he shuts the oven door. 

“Matts with the assist,” Mitch says. “Shoot-first guy on the ice, pass-first player in the kitchen, eh?” 

“No hockey talk over dinner,” Christina says. “I hear plenty of it.” 

“Sorry,” Mitch says. “So, how’ve you been, Mrs. Marleau?” 

Christina laughs. “You’re adorable, but please, call me Christina.” 

Mitch flushes, a little embarrassed.

“Can’t take him anywhere,” Auston says, this dumb half-smile on his face, and it’s not a particularly funny joke, but he must know his audience, because Patty and his wife laugh like it’s the most hilarious joke they’ve ever heard. 

Mitch’s face turns even redder, and alarm bells are going off in his head, because that’s… almost boyfriend-territory. “Rude,” he says, pretending to brush it off, even though he’s probably still blushing. “Um, anyway, I said hi to Jagger, where’re the rest of the boys?” 

“I’ll go get them,” Christina says. “They wanted to say hi. Why don’t you open up the wine, in the meantime?” 

“Sure,” Auston says. “Uh, bottle opener?” 

“Drawer at the end,” Patty says, nodding. “Mitchy, wanna grab a bowl from the cabinet?” 

“You got it,” Mitch says, and by the time three children come running into the kitchen, and one is carried in, the wine has been uncorked and poured out, the vegetables have been successfully transferred into a serving receptacle, and high fives have been exchanged all around. 

“Hi Mitch, hi Auston,” Landon says, and Mitch is still in a high five kind of zone, and apparently so is Auston, because they both automatically hold out their hands, and Landon runs past them like it’s a handshake line, with Brody doing the same. 

“Did my mom tell you she got the good cheesy crackers for you guys?” Brody says. “She wouldn’t let us open them before.” 

“We can open them now,” she says, and Mitch gets the distinct impression that these crackers have been a topic of conversation for most of the day. She turns to Caleb, who’s currently trying to hide his face against her, and kind of bounces him in her arms. “Caleb, don’t you want to say hi to daddy’s teammates?” 

Caleb shakes his head. 

“Aw, Caleb, I was really excited to see you,” Auston’s voice says, and Mitch turns to see Auston walking toward them. 

Caleb peeks out to look at Auston, who gives him a soft smile and a small wave. Mitch melts, but only a little. 

“Wanna say hi to Auston?” Christina says to him, and Caleb turns and waves one hand as she moves him closer to Auston. 

Auston smiles, then waves both his hands, and Caleb perks up and does the same, and before Mitch knows what’s happening, Auston is holding a toddler, and Mitch has to stop himself from literally clutching his hands to his heart, because it’s honestly that cute. 

The problem is, really, that Auston seems like the kind of guy who’d be awkward around kids, but Mitch always forgets that he’s, like, actually good with them. He likes them, too, is the thing, and like – Mitch is only human, and Auston’s incredibly good looking, and also his favorite person, like, ever, so. This is a lot, honestly, but Mitch takes some solace in the fact that no one has ever literally died because of how good someone is with children. 

Then, Auston turns Caleb to Mitch and says, “Caleb, wanna say hi to Mitchy?” and Mitch realizes that he might be the first person to literally die from how good Auston is with children.

Caleb laughs, like Mitch’s entire world isn’t falling apart due to cute things already, but Mitch just takes a deep breath then puts on a faux-serious face and holds a hand out to Caleb, businesslike. “Hello, Mr. Caleb.” The joke is mostly for Auston’s benefit, because apparently Mitch is just digging his own grave, now, but the laugh it gets out of Auston is pretty great, aside from the fact that it makes Mitch’s heart feel a little bit like it’s breaking. 

For his part, Caleb slaps Mitch’s hand, like it’s a high five. “Hi!” 

Mitch laughs, and ruffles his hair. “How are you?” 

“I went to school today,” Caleb says. 

“Oh yeah?” Mitch asks. “Learn anything cool?” 

Caleb starts to go on in half-coherent sentences, and Mitch tries to follow along, at first, but mostly he just nods, pretends to understand as he explains the rules of a game that may or may not be duck-duck-goose with a different name, and Auston does too, actually prompting him with questions, and it’s just – it’s sweet, and once Mitch gets used to feeling like his heart is going to explode every time Auston smiles at Caleb, he enjoys it, for a second. 

Suddenly, there’s something clinging to Mitch’s leg, which, yeah, that’s Jagger. “Are you gonna play mini sticks with us?” 

“Later,” Patty says, before Mitch has a chance to answer. “Jagger, go set the table. Brody and Landon already started.” 

“Why doesn’t Caleb have to help?” Jagger complains. 

“Caleb’s 3,” Patty says patiently. “You didn’t have to set the table when you were his age.” 

“Yes I did,” Jagger says, which Mitch doubts, but he runs out of the kitchen to the dining room, presumably to join his brothers. 

When Mitch looks back, Auston is still holding a very small child, and is now booping his nose, probably because everything he does is possibly designed to target Mitch, specifically. 

Mitch grabs his wine glass and takes a sip, to stop himself from just grinning at the two of them like a lovesick idiot. “Alright, how else can I help?” he says, because keeping busy is probably the only way he’s going to survive this.

* * *

Mitch doesn’t know what he did in a past life to deserve this kind of evening, but they manage to make it through dinner without having to address the fact that Patty and his wife definitely think they’re a thing. It’s because of the kids, really, and Mitch would, if he could, make sure all of them got a later bedtime and extra dessert and all the Happy Meals they could ever want.

In fact, until the pause before dessert, the conversation had been mostly centered around Christmas, seasonal traditions and plans to see family, normal, neutral conversation that comes so easily that Mitch is almost caught off-guard when they’re caught elbowing each other as they rinse their dishes, and Christina gives Mitch a knowing look. Thankfully, Mitch manages to look away and not blush until she can’t see him, and like – okay, maybe Mitch makes fun of Auston for wearing dish gloves, and maybe Auston comes at him with wet hands and Mitch ducks out of the way as they both laugh, but it’s just friend stuff. Fun, goofy, silly, and, like – okay, it’s  _ close  _ friend stuff, but still, it’s purely platonic, and doesn’t go above the normal bro levels of flirting. 

Mitch and Auston take a picture with Patty and his kids, and it’s incredibly cute, Caleb on Auston’s lap, Jagger wearing Mitch’s chain, because he thought it was cool, and Mitch had been more than happy to let him borrow it for the night. Then it’s time for mini sticks with the kids, as promised, and Mitch thinks that they should be in the clear for a bit with that, except that’s when something happens that make Mitch’s stomach twist, the same way it had when Patty had looked at the two of them as he sorted out the deck for Euchre. 

It’s not a big moment, is the thing. It’s just – Auston’s talking to Patty as Mitch and Jagger are playing against Brody and Landon, and out of the corner of his eye, Mitch sees Patty nod in his direction. There’s something about his smile that catch’s Mitch’s attention, so as play continues, he keeps trying to discreetly cast glances in their direction, hoping to – he doesn’t even know, figure out what they could be talking about, or if it could be bad, even though there’s not much he can do about it right now. 

What he sees is Patty gesturing in his direction, smiling, and Auston blushing furiously, probably at a loss for words, looking at Mitch several times as he speaks. 

What he doesn’t see is Auston shaking his head, or Patty’s smile dropping, because neither of those things happen. 

And, like, okay, maybe Mitch had jumped to conclusions, but he’s always been a big believer in gut feelings, and he’s pretty sure he’s not reading this wrong. Patty had said something to Auston about him, that he’s sure of, and it had been something nice, and something that had made Auston blush, and something that Auston hadn’t denied, and it’s just – it’s weird. It’s really, really weird, so weird that Mitch gets distracted from the game and lets a goal in, which leads to a chorus of cheering that ends whatever conversation Auston and Patty had been having. 

* * *

The kids eat their dessert and go to bed quickly, tired from mini sticks and the general excitement of company, but Mitch and Auston linger over coffee.

Auston’s not even acting weird – the conversation is still easy, with Mitch being chatty and polite as Auston makes dry comments, and it’s a little less playful-flirty than before, but it’s that time of night, when things are winding down, so the Marleaus don’t pick up on anything. 

Mitch should count his blessings right now, honestly, because for the first time all night, he’s not worried about Auston doing something that unintentionally makes them look like anything more than just friends, except the fact that he’s not worrying is making him worry. Auston’s guarded, now, and it makes Mitch’s life a little easier, because he doesn’t have to figure out how to make him and Auston look less like boyfriends, but it’s like before in the wine store – Auston’s uncomfortable, and kind of hurt, and that’s not good. 

Mitch lightly kicks his ankle under the table, gives him a concerned look, and Auston won’t even meet his eye, and that’s not good at all, but– 

They make it through, somehow. 

The last close call of the evening is when they’re bringing coffee cups into the kitchen, and Christina makes some comment about how nice it is to see the two of them so happy, but she doesn’t even tack on a ‘together’ like Mitch was worried about, and before he knows it, they’re grabbing their coats from the closet, giving them goodbye hugs, promising to come by again, and then they’re out the door, walking to Auston’s car with their hands stuffed in their pockets. 

“That was nice,” Mitch says, just because it can’t be an awkward silence if one of them is talking. It still kind of feels like one, anyway. 

“For sure,” Auston says, distracted. 

Mitch is good at reading people, and he’s especially good at knowing when people want him to shut up but are too polite to say it, so he spares Auston and doesn’t press for more. 

It’s not unusual for them to drive places together, and drives back from places are almost always quieter than the drive there. They’ve had their fair share of silent trips together, sometimes because they’re tired, sometimes because there’s not much to say and at some point, Mitch had realized that he doesn’t need to fill every second they spend together with conversation to believe that Auston’s his friend. Auston’s the first person that Mitch has ever shared a comfortable silence with, and it had taken him a while to be okay with those lapses in conversation, to realize that they’re not necessarily bad or awkward.

This feels different, though. 

This feels bad, and awkward, and heavy, like there’s something they’re both not saying, and Mitch starts to wonder if he’d gone about this all wrong, if he should’ve warned Auston about Patty maybe drawing some wrong conclusions about them, if Auston figured out what was happening and is mad at him for not keeping him in the loop, or weirded out that Mitch spent the entire night letting Patty think they were together, because why would they–

“Mitchy?” Auston says, his voice soft, and Mitch startles. He drops his phone, and realizes belatedly that he’s been staring at a random Instagram post for the past few minutes, too lost in thought to scroll. 

“Shit,” Mitch says, glad that it’s dark enough that Auston can’t see how red he is. 

“It’s okay,” Auston says, and then, after a beat, “I, uh – are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Mitch says. “Sorry, just – worried, about stuff.” 

“Alright,” Auston says. “Do you, uh, wanna talk about it?” 

“Nah,” Mitch says, shaking his head.

“You sure?” Auston says, and his eyes are fixed on the road, but Mitch can see the concern pooling at the corners of his eyes. 

“Yeah, it’s just – y’know.” He bites his lip. “Just, uh – y’know, the goal thing.” It’s a plausible enough thing to worry about, but he’s dealing with it the way he usually does – chin up, smile on, relax and trust that it’ll happen eventually, so bringing it up was maybe a bad idea.

“Ah,” Auston says, and he exhales, almost a hum, like he’s thinking. “I’m sorry.” 

Mitch shrugs. “I’m dealing, I guess.” 

“You are,” Auston says. “It’s – you know it’s okay to worry a bit, right?” 

Mitch huffs out a laugh. “I’m aware it’s a problem, thanks.” 

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” Auston says. “Like – it’s good that you’re trying to be positive, but sometimes things are stressful, even if you don’t want them to be.” 

“I’m just trying to not let it get to me too much,” Mitch says. 

“Yeah, no, but – it’s okay if it does, a little? It shouldn’t, because you’re gonna be okay, but – you can tell yourself that things are gonna be okay without pretending that things aren’t as hard as they are.”

“Where’s this coming from?” Mitch says. 

Auston shrugs. “You just seem tired lately, I guess.” 

“So do you,” Mitch says. “We both do. Being tired kind of comes with the territory.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” says Auston. 

There’s another lull in the conversation, and it’s a little angry, but less awkward than before, and Mitch takes a second to think before he speaks. 

“It’s… stressful, yeah,” Mitch says, and it’s to appease Auston, but there’s more honesty in it than he expected. “Trying to relax – it’s harder than it used to be.”

“For sure,” Auston says. “You’re still better at it than most people are.” 

“Thanks,” Mitch says. 

Neither of them says much after that, but it’s not an uncomfortable silence, this time.

Or – it’s not uncomfortable between them, but Mitch is uncomfortable, because it’s not like he doesn’t know he’ll sometimes say “a positive attitude” when he means straight-up denial, but he likes to think of himself as a pretty self-aware, perceptive guy. He sort of figures that’s what he brings to a friendship, blatantly calling out other people’s bad emotional choices, and he’s not used to being the one being called out, but he’s pretty sure that Auston just Marnsed him – which is Stromer’s word, not his, but. 

Mitch doesn’t like to be stressed, but when he is, he has coping mechanisms – healthy ones, even. He’s not used to them not working, and that’s maybe been getting to him as much as the goal drought thing, especially when no one’s even blaming him, and it’s just luck, but still, Mitch is a little out of his comfort zone, right now. It’s not bad, honestly, and it’s not like he’s in a stress spiral now, but it’s just a reminder that, yeah, Auston is oblivious, and weird, and hasn’t known Mitch that long, but despite all that, he really just  _ gets  _ Mitch.

“Is it okay if I put in headphones?” Mitch says, because right now his mind is a confusing jumble of things that he’s prepared to acknowledge, but not quite address, and he sort of needs to close his eyes and not think, for a bit. 

“Totally,” Auston says. He means it, too. 

And that’s the thing, right, Mitch has never had a friend like Auston, and it’s great, but it’s also a little scary to love someone and trust someone when you also really, really like them. 

* * *

The first thing Mitch does when he gets home is text Zach, because Zach can probably help with the whole Auston situation in some capacity, even if Mitch isn’t sure he wants to explain all his romantic feelings that are also kind of tied up in lots of close friendship and generally feeling like Auston is his favorite person in the universe.

He doesn’t really expect to hear anything from Zach soon, honestly, except his phone buzzes with a text a few minutes later –  _ hey i was gonna msg you –  _ and before he even gets a chance to text back, Zach is calling. 

“Hello?” Mitch says, confused and more than a little worried. 

“Hey,” Zach says, kind of out of breath. “I’m so sorry, but – I need a huge favor from you, man.” 

“Of course, what’s up?” Mitch asks, even more concerned, now. 

“Um, okay, so – uh, there’s a lot of backstory, but – can you call Matty?” 

“What?” Mitch says, and his stomach drops. “Did he say something?” 

“No, no, no, he doesn’t know I – can you just call him? Please?” 

“I’m sorry, dude, any other night I would, but – things are kind of… I dunno. Not tonight, I’m sorry.” 

“I just need someone to distract him for a few minutes, okay?” Zach says. 

“Wh – are you at his place?” Mitch asks. “Did you break into his apartment, or something?” 

“No, he’s at Willy’s, not–”

_ “Willy’s?” _ Mitch repeats, incredulous. “Why is Willy involved in–” he stops talking when he remembers that he’d literally walked in on the two of them making out, like, yesterday.

“Can you just – please?” Zach says, and it’s just, like, the least Zach Hyman situation imaginable, whatever it is that has him calling Mitch begging him to distract Auston because of his strange whatever-it-is with Willy. 

“Are you at Willy’s?” Mitch asks. 

“Uh,” Zach says, and Mitch can practically hear him wince. “Maybe?” 

“I’m coming over,” Mitch says. 

“You don’t have to–”  

“See you in fifteen,” Mitch says, then hangs up before Zach can protest any further. 

* * *

Willy and Auston are sitting on the steps outside Willy’s condo when Mitch pulls up, and Mitch feels so stupid as he gets out of the car, because who the fuck just shows up at someone’s place unannounced, but he figures he’s here, so he might as well go with it.

“Hey, Willy,” Mitch calls, faux-casual, as he walks up the path to the front of the house. “Hi Matts.” 

“Mitch,” Willy says, slow. “What are you doing here?” 

“Hyms said you weren’t picking up your phone, and he needed to talk to you,” Mitch says. “Figured if you didn’t pick up for him, you wouldn’t pick up for me.” 

“I–” Willy says, and then he gulps, and no one says anything for a second. They’re both staring at Mitch, which is fair, but also, Mitch is decidedly more aware of Auston’s staring. 

Mitch decides to act like he’s got the upper hand in this scenario, so he crosses his arms. “You should probably call him.” He gives Willy a pointed look, like,  _ I know what’s up,  _ even though he doesn’t quite, but he knows enough. 

Willy looks at Matts, then back at Mitch. “Auston and I were kind of in the middle of something.” 

“If Zach called me, then it’s probably serious,” Mitch says. 

There’s a bit of a standoff where Mitch pretends to be communicating silently, but mostly he just doesn’t break eye contact and hopes Willy cracks first. 

It’s Auston who breaks it. “Go call him, Will,” he says. “I can wait.” 

“Aus–“

“Willy,” Auston says, firm, and he glances in Mitch’s direction, his face inscrutable. 

Willy sighs. “Fine,” he says. “Give me a sec.” He gets up and walks into the house, giving Auston one final look, and then it’s just Mitch and Auston, with too much distance between them, and the night is quiet, all of a sudden, a loaded silence that Mitch can’t picture himself chatting through, but maybe he shouldn’t. 

Mitch doesn’t want to waste this, though, doesn’t show up and do nothing but make sure Auston is alone, when not wanting to be alone is probably a big part of the reason Auston is here. So, Mitch sits down next to him, on the step where Auston’s feet are, and has this weird urge to start playing with the laces of Auston’s shoes. It’s probably because things are kind of heavy, now.

“Long time no see,” Mitch says, kind of dry, and Auston snorts. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Hey, uh, Patty thinks we’re dating.” 

Mitch doesn’t even process what Auston’s said for a second, because he says it so casually, but it’s Auston-casual, so it still sounds a little like a defense mechanism. 

“Oh,” Mitch says, kind of unsure. “What makes you say that?” 

Auston shrugs. “He asked me about it.”

“Okay,” Mitch says, and he knows the answer to his next question, but he sort of has to ask it anyway. “And you told him we weren’t? Or, uh, aren’t?” 

Auston winces, which Mitch was expecting, and, like, none of this is news to Mitch, but his stomach still does something complicated at the confirmation. “I’m an idiot,” Auston says, and he puts his face in his hands. 

“It’s okay,” Mitch says, and he pats Auston’s knee, trying to be reassuring, but then he realizes that that’s a terrible idea and stops quickly. “It was like, what, you were caught off-guard and you panicked?” 

“Not quite?” Auston says. “It’s complicated.” 

“Why?” Mitch asks. 

Auston sighs, then picks his head up. “How much time do you have?” 

“Until Willy comes back, I guess,” Mitch says. “I think that might be a while.” 

“Okay, well, uh, Patty thinks we’ve been together for a few weeks, but keeping it on the down-low,” Auston says. “Or, like – he’s been suspicious for a few weeks, at least, and I – okay, first off, let me just say I’m, like, seriously sorry.” 

“You’re forgiven,” Mitch says. “Or, actually, what are you sorry for?”

Auston takes a second before he speaks, and when he does, his eyes are squeezed shut. “I sort of – like, I didn’t lie, but I kind of – I’ve been dropping hints? For the last few weeks?” 

“You’ve been–” Mitch starts, but then he snaps his mouth shut, and it’s like – he doesn’t even know what he feels, as the words start to sink in. He thinks back to all the things Auston did that he chalked up to them being weirdly close and Auston being kind of oblivious to how it looks to the outside world, and it hits him with this awful clarity that they were purposeful, calculated, engineered to make it seem like they were together.

“I’m so sorry,” Auston says. “I didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

“You didn’t mean to drag me into our fictional relationship?” Mitch says, and he realizes he’s angry, and rightfully so, because  _ what the fuck.  _ “You didn’t think I’d appreciate being kept in the loop about that?” 

“It’s just embarrassing, okay?” Auston says, kind of apologetic, but also a little defensive, like this is somehow defensible. 

“Well, then maybe you should’ve picked a less embarrassing fake boyfriend,” Mitch says, and as he does, the front door opens behind him. 

“Fake boyfriend?” Willy’s voice says. Mitch stands up and turns to face him, and he can see that Willy’s looking back and forth between him and Auston, who’s staring at his feet and looks kind of like he wants to hide. Mitch would feel bad for him, probably, if he wasn’t too busy being fucking pissed. 

“Apparently that’s what Matts has been telling Patty,” Mitch says. “Or, he’s been telling Patty that we’re boyfriends. Which we’re not.”

“So then you’re – what are you guys?” Willy asks, like that’s the logical next question here, somehow. 

“We’re – like, we’re not anything,” Mitch says. 

“So you’re not even, like, hooking up?” Willy says, disbelieving, and Mitch has no fucking idea why he would be so surprised about that, except– 

“Oh my god, you told Willy too?” Mitch says, giving Auston an incredulous look.

“You lied to me?” Willy says, hurt.

Auston’s hands are on his head, like he’s one of the kids in those “duck and cover” videos Mitch remembers from school. “I was gonna tell you, okay?” 

“Which one of us?” Willy asks. 

“You,” Auston says. “And you too, Mitchy–” 

“When were you planning to do that?” Mitch asks. 

“After I told Willy, so I could figure out how to fix this without pissing everyone off, which clearly didn’t fucking work,” Auston says, kind of snapping. “Look, I fucked up, and it kind of got out of hand, and I know it’s all my fault, but I’m  _ sorry,  _ okay? I’m really, really fucking sorry, and I wish none of this had ever happened.” 

“Sorry it was so miserable having to pretend to like me,” Mitch says, which is unfair, but he’s really fucking hurt. “Is that why you didn’t tell me? Because you didn’t want to risk me playing along? Bet we could’ve really sold it.” 

“Jesus fuck, Marns, you know that’s not–” 

“No, I don’t know anything, apparently,” Mitch says. “I don’t even know why anyone would do this kind of thing in the first place.” 

“Listen, Mitchy–” Willy says, soothing, and he looks like he’s about to reach out to touch Mitch, like Mitch is a kid throwing a tantrum who needs to be calmed down. Fortunately, he’s interrupted by a sound from inside the condo, and quickly turns to look inside.

Auston’s head whips around to look at the door, then at Willy. “Is there someone inside?” 

“It’s Hyms,” Mitch says. 

“It’s – what the fuck?” Auston says. “Is Zach here?” 

“Uh,” Willy says, looking like a deer caught in headlights.

“Why didn’t you tell me he was–” 

“Matty,” Mitch says, cutting him off, “are you really in a place to be getting mad at people for withholding information?”

It’s probably way too petty, but it works, because Auston’s glaring at Mitch, all red-faced frustration that would give a 16-year-old Stromer a run for his money. “It’s fine if you’re angry, but can you not be so – I told you I was sorry,” he says, and then he turns to Willy, who’s having some kind of wordless conversation through the storm door. “Zach can, like, come out, if he wants.” 

“I can go inside–” Willy says, not looking away from the door, but then he takes a step back as Zach walks out. 

“I was, uh, gonna go,” Zach says, and then he glances quickly at Mitch and Auston and purses his lips. “Hey guys.” 

Willy’s face kind of falls. “No, don’t leave.”

“You guys are busy,” Zach says. 

“Your shirt is inside out,” Auston says to Zach, and it takes a lot of willpower, on Mitch’s behalf, not to point out the faint trace of a backwards ‘29’ that he can make out through the fabric. 

“Okay, I can–” Willy starts, but Auston cuts him off. 

“No, I don’t – whatever, you guys can do what you want, just – how much of that did you hear?” Auston asks, turning to Zach. 

“I wasn’t listening in,” Zach says. “So, I have no clue what’s going on here.” 

“If it helps, neither do I,” Mitch says, crossing his arms. 

“I guess I don’t either,” Auston says, rubbing his temples. 

“Same here,” Willy says, throwing his hands up in frustration. “All I know is that apparently Matts and Mitchy aren’t dating.” 

“And apparently you and Zach  _ are _ ,” Auston counters.

“Okay, we’re not–”

“Yet,” Willy says, cutting Zach off, then gives him a quick glance. “Or, I don’t know, that’s TBD.” 

“Later,” Zach adds, and Mitch notices that he’s blushing, a little. He looks between Mitch and Auston. “Wait, you two aren’t together?” 

There’s a beat, and then Mitch looks at Auston, incredulous. “Wait, Zach too? Are you  _ kidding  _ me, Matthews.” 

“I didn’t tell him anything,” Auston says, then turns to glare at Willy. 

“Neither did I,” Willy says, defensive, and all three of them look at Zach, expectant. 

“I just thought–” Zach says, then kind of points at the both of them. “You two are – you act like–” 

“We’re just friends,” Mitch says, and Auston kind of flinches at that. 

“So wait, Matts, when you said you were gonna make a move–” Willy says. 

“I didn’t.” Auston’s bright red, and looking at his feet.  

“Then why would you say–” Mitch starts, before he can really think about it, but then Auston turns to look at him, his expression some combination of angry and hurt, and Mitch realizes that he hasn’t actually thought about– 

Well, okay. Mitch hasn’t thought about a lot of things, when it comes to Auston, but on a smaller scale, he hasn’t actually gotten any sort of answer as to why Auston would let people think they were dating in the first place. And, like, there are conclusions that it’s probably not safe to jump to, but Auston looks a little sad, now, and it hits Mitch with a striking clarity that Auston hadn’t been lying.

“Oh,” Mitch says, realizing that it’s fallen silent again. Zach and Willy are probably staring at him too, but Mitch can’t really look away from Auston long enough to check. He’s not meeting Mitch’s eye, and Mitch has no idea what his own face is doing, but he can feel the anger melting away, replaced by this blank kind of shock as the realization dawns on him. 

“Well,” Auston says, and he stands up. “Whatever, I’ll – I’m sorry for interrupting, Will. And sorry I got mad, that was – uncalled for, probably.” 

“It’s okay,” Willy says. 

“I’m gonna head inside,” Zach says. “It’s kinda cold.” 

“I’ll go with you,” Willy says, and Mitch doesn’t even register the sound of the door closing behind them, because he’s suddenly alone with Auston again. 

There’s a stretch of silence where Auston stuffs his hands in his pockets and looks at his car, but he doesn’t move, and so Mitch just keeps staring, awestruck. 

Auston starts to take a step in the direction of his car, and quickly, Mitch says, “I still forgive you.” 

Auston freezes. “What?” 

“Before,” Mitch says. “The first time you apologized, I told you I forgive you.” 

“That was before you knew what was gonna happen,” Auston says. 

Mitch shrugs. “I knew we’d get there eventually. 

Auston cracks a small smile, kind of sad. “That’s… reassuring, I guess.” 

“Yeah,” Mitch says. “We’ll always be good, man.” 

“Will we?” Auston says, and he lifts his chin, a bit. 

“Of course,” Mitch says. “I wasn’t – like, I was mad, but that was because I thought it was – like, I was scared it had all been fake, I guess.” 

“What?” Auston asks. 

“Like, the – y’know, we’re really close, and – I dunno.” Mitch shrugs. “It’s dumb, I guess, but I was worried I was just your fake boyfriend, and not your friend.” 

“I didn’t – I never even think about it when you’re here,” Auston says. “Like, I was talking with Patty, and he gave me this whole pep talk, and I was so pumped to finally… but then it was like – I saw you, and I just – I couldn’t, y’know?” He shrugs. ‘But I, uh, didn’t want Patty to feel bad, so I just didn’t really tell him yes or no.” 

“You didn’t want him to feel bad,” Mitch echoes. “That’s, like, the most you thing I’ve ever heard.” 

“Gotta stay on-brand when I’m fucking up, I guess,” Auston says, but he’s back to staring at the ground. 

“I get it, man,” Mitch says. “It’s scary as fuck.” 

“You would’ve been nice about it, probably,” Auston says. 

It’s then that Mitch realizes that Auston’s working off the assumption that he was going to turn him down, and that’s just – okay, like, logically, he knows that’s a reasonable thing for a human being to assume, but the idea of Auston asking Mitch out and Mitch saying ‘no’ is just kind of absurd to Mitch. 

“You know, you haven’t actually asked me, yet,” Mitch says. 

Auston looks at him for the first time since they started talking, his expression indiscernible. “What?” 

“You haven’t actually made a move,” Mitch says, and he’s grateful it comes out sounding braver than he feels. 

“I – I mean, do I need to, at this point?” Auston says, but there’s something like hope in his voice, and Mitch latches onto it. 

“I haven’t had a chance to give you an answer,” Mitch says, and this time, it comes out a little more breathless. 

“You were mad at me, like, five minutes ago,” Auston says, and he looks caught off-guard. “Like, really mad.” 

“Because I thought you were only pretending to like me,” Mitch says. “I wouldn’t tell you I forgive you if I didn’t mean it.” 

“I don’t think I could pull off pretending to like you,” Auston says. 

“What did Patty say to you?” Mitch asks. “During mini sticks? That made you start acting all weird?” 

“I – just that he was really happy for me. Or, uh, for us.” He gulps. “It just – it felt bad, like, there’s a difference between implying and straight-up lying, and… I dunno. I felt guilty, and then I hadn’t told you at all, and realized it was shitty to act like we’re boyfriends without you knowing. Like, boundaries, or whatever.” 

“But how much of it was fake?” Mitch asks. 

“I – none of it was  _ fake,” _ Auston says. “I mean, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I – I dunno, I feel sort of pathetic half the time, I guess? I’m kind of… obvious.” 

“Obvious,” Mitch echoes. 

“Like, it’s not – it’s this thing, where I know I should stop, like, being all – it’s not flirting, but.” He does a gesture with his hand. “Kinda flirting, I guess, and I usually hold back, but I figured that if I wanted Patty to believe – like, I held back less, until Patty said that, and I was worried you were gonna pick up on it.” 

“I mean, I did pick up on the flirting, I just thought you didn’t know you were doing it,” Mitch says. 

“It wasn’t – it’s not like I was trying to do anything, I just thought – I don’t know.” He shrugs, kind of helpless. “I don’t even know why I was doing any of it, honestly. I guess I just like you, and, like, don’t really know what to do about it.” 

“Well,” Mitch says, “you could… take me to dinner?” 

Auston turns very slowly to look at Mitch, and Mitch’s heart is beating very loud and very fast, even though he’s not even risking anything, at this point, because he knows how Auston feels, but, still. 

“What?” Auston says, and his voice sounds weird. 

“I mean, I guess, if I’m offering, I’m the one taking you out, technically,” Mitch says. “If you say yes.” 

“If I say – what?” Auston repeats. 

“You’ve done pretty much everything but ask me on a date, so I figured I could take over that step,” Mitch says, and he’s honestly pretty proud of the lines he’s coming up with, but he’s fucking terrified as he says them. 

“So you’re – you’re asking me out?” Auston says. 

“Uh, yeah,” Mitch says. “If that’s okay.” 

“But – why?” Auston says, and he looks so genuinely confused that Mitch can’t help but laugh, kind of breathless. 

“Why do you think?” Mitch says. “Like, the usual reasons.” 

“So you’re willing to… I dunno, give this a shot,” Auston says.

“It’s not about – like, it’s not like this is the first time I’ve thought about it,” Mitch says.

“It’s not?” Auston says. 

“I mean, of course not,” Mitch says. 

“That’s not an ‘of course’ thing,” Auston says. “I – when did you think about it before?” 

“What kind of question is that?” Mitch says. 

“A reasonable one,” Auston says.

“It’s not like I, like, wrote down when I–” Mitch huffs. “Like, I’m trying to say that I’ve thought about it a lot, for a while. Like, it’s a  _ thing.”  _

“It’s a–” Auston says. “Oh.” 

Mitch waits for Auston to process that and, like, respond, but he just sits there silently, not saying anything, so Mitch speaks first. “So?” 

“You – you want to date me,” Auston says, like he’s trying to wrap his head around it. “Wow, I really made this a lot more difficult than it needed to be.” 

“Well, if you gave me a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ we could sort of wrap it up now,” Mitch says. 

Auston squints at him. “Wh – yes, duh, but–” he freezes, his eyes going wide. “Wait, holy shit, you – we’re gonna go out?” 

“We’re gonna go out,” Mitch repeats, and he’s staring at Auston, now. He’s a little bit dizzy, but not in a bad way. Just, like – things are a lot. A lot of good, but still. A lot. “That’s – cool.” He’s struck with the urge to smile, and he tries to resist, because he knows that once he starts, it will turn into this goofy, too-wide thing, except Auston’s doing the exact same thing, so Mitch lets it happen. 

“Cool,” Auston repeats, a little high, and god, they’re really, actually just sitting here, staring at each other like idiots, and Mitch isn’t even embarrassed about it, because he’s too fucking –  _ god.  _

“What do we do now?” Mitch asks, but he’s still grinning. 

“I don’t know,” Auston says, his eyes bright. “Uh, what do you want to do?” 

I dunno, what do you want to do?” Mitch says, practically giggling, even though it’s maybe the lamest joke he could’ve made. 

Auston apparently doesn’t think it’s lame, or maybe he does, because he gasps out a few laughs before he’s straight-up doubled over, and Mitch joins him soon enough. It’s just – it doesn’t even feel real, and it honestly could just be a dream, and Mitch is half-tempted to ask Auston to pinch him to prove it’s not, but he can barely form words. 

“Oh my god,” Auston says, and he still sounds kind of giddy, but the words kind of drag Mitch back down to Earth, so he rubs the laugh-tears that have started to gather at the corners of his eyes away. “Okay, wow.” 

“Yeah,” Mitch says, a little nonsensical. “Seriously, I have no clue what we’re supposed to do now.” 

“I don’t think we’re ‘supposed’ to do anything,” Auston says. 

“I feel like there’s something we should do, though,” Mitch says. 

“We should go on a date, eventually,” Auston says. “If that’s what you’re thinking.” 

“No,” Mitch says, shaking his head. “I mean, yeah, but before that.” 

“Like, planning a date?” Auston suggests. 

“No, like,” Mitch says, and then he just stares at Auston, because – like, he’s mostly joking, but he also genuinely doesn’t know if he’s expected to go back to his apartment right now, knowing that he’s gonna go on a date with his best friend and totally left to his own devices to cope with that. That feels off, to him, but he doesn’t know what the rules are for this kind of situation. 

“Uh,” Auston says, and for a second Mitch thinks his smile fades, but it just shifts into something a little less giggly. “Are you saying that you think we should, like, kiss?” 

It takes Mitch a second to get himself under control enough to respond to that with something besides incoherent sputtering. “Well… are you saying that?” 

“If you’re saying that, then I’m saying that,” Auston says. 

“Then, same,” Mitch says. 

“That’s not helpful.” 

“Well, sorry?” 

“Alright, well, how about we say it at the same time?” 

“Okay,” There’s a beat of silence, and then Mitch says, “Wait, no, that’s so fucking dumb.” 

“Probably,” Auston says, except all that comes out is ‘probabl–’ before Mitch cuts him off with a kiss. Auston makes a kind of surprised noise, but then his mouth softens against Mitch’s, and, like, they’re  _ kissing.  _

It’s really good. 

It’s better than really good, actually. It’s probably the best kiss that Mitch could possibly imagine, because he’s spent a lot of time thinking about how this would turn out, but nothing could account for the actual reality of kissing Auston. Like, Auston’s a good fucking kisser, and right in that sweet spot where he’s not too tall for Mitch to kiss comfortably, but he’s so big, and Mitch is, like, really into that. 

They make out for an embarrassingly long time, and it’s sweet, at first, but it crosses the line into borderline-indecent pretty quickly, because even if they’re technically adults, they’re still 20, and there’s a lot of pent-up tension between the two of them. 

It’s Mitch who breaks it off. “Sorry,” he says, but he’s kind of panting. His back is pressed against the railing of Willy’s porch, and he’s honestly not sure when he got there, but, like. Whatever. 

“What?” Auston says, his face all read and his eyes still half-lidded, and Mitch has to look away to keep himself from kissing him again. 

“For interrupting you before,” Mitch says. 

“What?” Auston repeats, like he’d barely registered Mitch’s words. 

“Like when I–” Mitch starts. “You know what, never mind.” 

Auston shrugs, and leans in to kiss Mitch again, but Mitch uses every ounce of willpower he has – and probably some he doesn’t – and ducks away. 

“We should probably not keep doing this on Willy’s lawn,” Mitch says. “Just – y’know. Out of respect.” 

“But–” Auston says, but then he seems to consider it, probably because mentioning teammates is pretty much an instant mood killer. “Okay, fair point.” 

“So, uh, would it be too much too soon if I invited you back to my place, or–” 

“No,” Auston says quickly, shaking his head. “Not too much at all. The perfect amount.” 

“Okay, then,” Mitch says, half-teasing, except the fact that Auston’s this into it is just – it’s so fucking awesome. 

As they climb into Auston’s car, and Mitch is thinking about how he’s gonna explain to Willy that he parked overnight on the street in front of his place because he couldn’t stand to not be with Auston for the whole ten-minute drive, Auston says, “Oh, okay, I get it.” 

“What?” Mitch asks. 

“You cut me off before,” Auston says. “That’s what you were apologizing for.” 

Mitch just buckles up, falls back into the passenger seat, then turns to give Auston a judgemental look. “Matthews,” he says, crossing his arms. 

“I was distracted, sorry it took me a minute,” Auston says, not even a little embarrassed as he puts the key in the ignition. 

Mitch cracks a smile, shakes his head. “Just drive, man.” 

“Fine,” Auston pretends to grumble, except he’s grinning, as fond as Mitch feels, and Mitch doesn’t believe for a second that he minds. 

* * *

_(epilogue)_

Pat’s probably too old to be playing Truth or Dare. 

Or, like, everyone’s too old to be playing Truth or Dare, but he has four kids, and a solid decade on everyone else here, so really, it’s excessive. In his defense, he’d come here to convince the younger guys to learn Spades, and he’d been more or less roped into Truth or Dare against his will, but he’s here now, and he’s here to play, so he might as well embrace it, even if he did just watch Connor Brown attempt to sing along to a karaoke version of some  _ High School Musical  _ song that Patrick only knows from hearing it occasionally on Radio Disney back when Landon was still in preschool. It makes him feel somewhat less ancient that they don’t share the same childhood movies as his children, at least.

“So, Matty,” he says. “What’ll it be, truth or dare?” 

“Truth,” Auston says, then smirks. “Don’t want your lame old man dares.” 

Oh, it is  _ on.  _

“Alright,” Patrick says, nodding, and then he takes a second to debate whether or not he’s gonna play the trump card of a chirp he’s been holding on to for the past month and a half.

“Hurry up, Pops, we’re not getting any younger,” Mitch says, and that makes Pat’s decision for him. 

“Fine. Well, Matts, I’ve never heard the real story of how you and Mitchy started going out,” he says, and he watches with delight as their eyes go wide and their faces turn bright red. Which makes sense, because they haven’t been able to shut up about each other since the day they told the team they were official, but the fact that no one knows their actual getting-together story means that it’s definitely embarrassing. “So, give me the truth about that.” 

“Oh boy,” Willy says, and he looks like a kid in a candy shop. 

Mitch and Auston exchange a look, grimace, but then Mitch gulps. “Okay, remember the night we came over for dinner?”

Pat’s eyebrows go up, but he nods, trying not to laugh, but it’s probably pretty clear that he wants to, by the way Auston looks even more embarrassed.  

“Well, it sort of starts there,” Mitch says. “I guess it’s Matty’s turn, so he can tell the rest.” 

“Thanks,” Auston says, shooting Mitch a glare, but Mitch just smiles, apologetic, and Auston sighs and turns back to the group. “So, uh, before any of you judge, just remember that asking people out is really, really hard.” 

Mitch puts his hand over Auston’s, probably trying to be subtly reassuring, and he misses the mark on ‘subtle’ by about a mile, but Auston visibly relaxes, and Patty sits back to listen to what he’s sure is going to be a very entertaining story with a guaranteed happy ending. 

**Author's Note:**

> brownie: i should remember all of these stories so I can eventually compile them into a _love actually_ -style romcom about this team.  
> zach: good luck getting me to sell you the rights to my life story  
> mitch: can you call it _leafs actually_?  
>  auston: you can have my life story rights if you call it _leafs actually_  
>  willy: i'll give you my life story rights only if you don't call it _leafs actually_  
>  patty: does anyone here actually want to play cards or
> 
> [come talk to me on tumblr,](https://lottswrites.tumblr.com/) or follow me on twitter @lottslottslotts


End file.
